


Understand

by PeachyKeener



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Angst, Drabble, Harley Keener centric, Hurt/comfort but its just hurt, I wrote this in twnety minutes and its the first thing I've written in a few days and im, M/M, actually, being a superhero takes a toll on a relationship, i dunno, may update with comfort, no say yet, short fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-19
Updated: 2019-07-21
Packaged: 2020-07-08 10:57:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19868497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PeachyKeener/pseuds/PeachyKeener
Summary: Pepper looked away whenever he donned the armor and looked close to tears whenever he got in a battle. He never really understood that either. Shouldn’t she be proud and happy that her husband was a superhero and savior?So he never understood, at all.Until Peter.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this in twenty minutes  
> and 
> 
> its not good but i dunno
> 
> peter mentions getting shot but nothing graphic

Harley never understood how Pepper could break up with Tony because he was iron man.    
  
It just didn’t seem like a real thing- after all why would you break up with a  _ superhero _ ? And one as cool as Tony!    
  
So he never understood.    
  
He understood that they eventually found their way to each other again, and that Pepper looked away whenever he donned the armor and looked close to tears whenever he got in a battle. He never really understood that either. Shouldn’t she be  _ proud _ and  _ happy _ that her husband was a superhero and savior?    
  
So he never understood, at all.    
  
Until Peter.    
  
Beautiful, amazing, reckless, selfless Peter. Peter who made him laugh. Peter who grinned at him like a trouble maker and convinced the rest of the world he wasn’t. Peter who knew all of Harley’s favorite songs. Peter who tried to cook him pasta on their first date but ended up setting the noodles on fire. Peter who was Spider-Man.    
  
He was  _ proud _ of Peter. Of course he was. Peter was a hero. A Spider-Man. One of the best people in the world.    
  
But he was also so so so fucking afraid.    
  
The morning of the fight, he woke up alone.    
  
It wasn’t the first time he woke up alone. Despite them having moved in together when they went to college, despite them sharing a bed, patrols always kept Peter away. From home. From him.    
  
And he was  _ fine _ with that. Just a little tired of it. Especially because today was the one day it should have been.    
  
He sighed, stumbling out of bed, calling to an empty apartment, “Morning Peter.”    
  
The apartment stayed quiet.    
  
Harley made breakfast anyway.    
  
Peter came home through the window, and Harley huffed, “How many times have I told you to use the door?”    
  
“Every time I come home,” Peter huffed, pulling off his mask, coming to kiss Harley on the cheek, “Man I’m gonna head to bed- and then go back on patrol.”    
  
“Oh,” Harley turned to him, slightly hurt, “You sure?”    
  
“Yep.”    
  
“Is there anything your forgetting?”    
  
“Nope,” Peter signed, “Already emailed my professors about being sick.”    
  
“Are you sure?”    
  
“Yeah?”    
  
“So there’s nothing else your forgetting, just to make sure.”    
  
“I mean,” He shrugged, moving past Harley to take the bacon out of the pan, putting it in a napkin, “I don’t think so? But I need some sleep, and then I need to bust this drug ring.”    
  
“Peter,” Harley hesitates, “As much as I love you being Spider-Man, are you sure you should be doing that?”    
  
“Why wouldn’t I be doing that?”    
  
He deadpanned, “Last month you got shot.”    
  
“Perks of the job.”    
  
“Okay, um,” Harley shoved him out of the way, taking back the spatula and cracking an egg in the leftover bacon grease, “That’s not at all how that should work. At all.”    
  
“It is what it is, Harley.”    
  
He turned to face Peter, frown etched on his lips, “Do not get snappy with me, Parker. I’m saying that because I don’t  _ want  _ my boyfriend getting shot.”    
  
“Well I don’t want to be shot,” Peter was getting short with him, huffy and snappy. He was probably tired but Harley... Harley didn’t know how to feel, “You forget I’m the one who has to get shot over and over again until these guys are out of my city-“    
  
“You sound like the fucking Arrow,” The statement might have been a joke, but his tone was deadly serious, “And don’t you fucking forget that I was the one who has to watch my boyfriend in a coma for two days while your super healing did it’s thing and had to lie to  _ everyone _ ,” he gritted the word out, “That cared about you, that you were just sick.”    
  
“You’re still not the one who gets fucking shot, Harley!”    
  
“Yeah but I’m the one who has to watch you fucking kill yourself on one hour of sleep while you take on every fucking small thing!” Harley knew he was over reacting, knew he was taking things to far, but he couldn’t stop his mouth, “I’m the one who has to wake up alone every morning because you are to busy being Spider-Man to be here for me! I’m the one who can’t fucking watch the news because what if it’s reporting your death! I’m the one who puts everything aside to fucking support you even when it means something to me! I’m the one who has to watch you get shot!”    
  
Peter stared at him, concerned eyes and a taught expression. It was only then Harley realized he was verging in tears, “Fuck Peter, you don’t take care of yourself because Spider-Man has to take care of everyone else! And I hate watching you break down because you won’t!”    
  
“Harley-“    
  
“Don’t,” He turned off the stove, uncaring that the eggs were done cooking. He couldn’t see much past the white spots in his vision, “Don’t, Peter.”    
  
“Harley-“    
  
“Are you sure you had nothing else to look foreword to today?”    
  
The question startled Peter, “What- I don’t understand.”    
  
Harley looked at him again, finally letting tears slip. Peter was tearing up to. He let out a quiet sigh, “Its our three year Anniversary, Peter.”    
  
“Oh.”    
  
“Yeah,” Harley huffed, slipping out of the kitchen and to the bedroom where he slammed the door, “Yeah, Oh.”    
  
“Harley-“    
  
“Sleep on the couch, asshole, I don’t wanna talk to you right now.”    
  
“...okay. I love you.”    
  
“I wish you loved me as much as you loved being a hero,” Harley whispered, knowing damn well Peter could probably hear him through the door, “I wish I was as important so you could stay alive.”    
  
He never understood Pepper.    
  
Until he did.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Next time you see him,” The guy hesitated, “Could you tell him Markov said hi?” 
> 
> “What-“ 
> 
> Three bullets went off. He heard the tower alarms go off. He saw Peter swing down to him. He closed his eyes, and fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is kinda??? uh fucking everywhere 
> 
> and like... mad inspired by Jarvis and Ana from Agent Carter season 2, because I lvoe them

He recognized that he needed to get over himself.    
  
What Peter was doing as Spider-Man was more important than Harley or his feelings, and even more so Spider-Man was Peter’s one true calling, his passion. He needed to get over himself. He loved Peter and that meant that he loved all sides of Peter. Not just Peter Parker, but Spider-Man.    
  
He sighed, rolling off the bed. He padded to the door and unlocked it. He knew Peter would hear the click of the lock and know what it meant. He stepped back sitting on the bed. Peter stepped in quietly, face tight and eyes reddened. Harley couldn’t imagine he looked much better.    
  
Peter made a hesitant move towards him, but stopped. Harley sighed softly, “C’mere, Parker.”   
  
He obliged, and the two shifted onto the bed until they were in Harley’s favorite position- Harley laying on Peter’s chest, listening to his heart beat, and Peter playing with his hair. He sighed, “I’m sorry I was an asshole-”   
  
“No, you weren’t,” Peter hummed, “I’m the one who forgot our anniversary.”    
  
“But- I shouldn’t have ever even tried to encourage the idea that you working so hard as Spider-Man was a bad thing.”    
  
“Maybe it is, maybe it isn’t. It’s still unfair to you.”    
  
“I knew what I was signing up for.”    
  
“I know. That still doesn’t make it fair.”    
  
“So,” Harley sighed, glancing at Peter through his lashes, “What are we gonna do about it?”    
  
They had a system, one they had put in place in their first month of dating. It went like this: If either of them had a problem, and it involved the other, they explain their feelings and then ask what they’re going to do about it. No one was aloud to leave until you got an answer that satisfied both parties.    
  
Peter shifted, arms getting a better grip, “How about no super heroing tonight- and I’ll try to cut back on how late I stay out?”    
  
Harley nods. He can feel himself falling asleep on Peter’s chest.    
  
“But in return, you’ve got to *tell me* when you feel like this, Harls.”    
  
“Okay.”    
  
“I love you, a lot. You mean everything to me, and I wanna know when you feel like this.”    
  
“I love you too Peter. More than you could ever know.”    
  
They fall asleep like that, with Harley listening to his heartbeat and Peter playing with his hair.    


  
  
For awhile it’s good.    
  
For awhile it’s peaceful.    
  
Then something happens.    
  


  
Harley huffed as he headed down the elevator of Stark Tower, thinking about his boyfriend. It had been three months since their fight, and things had been pretty good. Really good.    
  
Peter was still doing work as Spider-Man. Still tracking that drug ring. But now he just happened to get home earlier, usually around one, just in time to go to bed with Harley.    
  
Probably would be the same tonight- though, Harley thought, humming softly, he has asked Peter to cook dinner since he had been working late. And it really was late, as he checked his watch, the time read eleven thirty. Everyone else at Stark Tower has gone. The only people left were Pepper and the rest of the residential occupants of the tower.    
  
He hummed, “Alright Fri- tell Pepper and them I said goodbye.”    
  
“Of course young boss,” Friday’s voice rang out, “Young Boss, There’s someone coming up to the building.”    
  
“Probably just a straggler- no one important.”    
  
“Young Boss-“    
  
Harley stepped outside, almost oblivious to Friday’s tone of warning. He started to walk out of the tower, but was stopped with a soft hand on his shoulder, “‘Scuse me, sorry to bother but is Stark Tower not open?”    
  
“Oh,” Harley blinked at the guy, “No it’s not. It closes at Ten.”    
  
“Ah,” The guy shook his head, then glanced at Harley curiously, “I was just wondering if it’s true what they say- that Spider-Man hangs around here?”    
  
Harley felt a chill go up his neck, “Yeah, Spidey hangs around here sometimes.”    
  
“You ever met him- since you’re an employee.”    
  
“Um,” Harley glances around, taking note of the swinging figure heading towards the tower, “Yeah we’re really really good friends.”    
  
The guy nodded, shifting a bit, “Oh that’s cool. I’m a big fan.”    
  
“Yeah, everyone is.”    
  
“Next time you see him,” The guy hesitated, “Could you tell him Markov said hi?”    
  
“What-“    
  
Three bullets went off. He heard the tower alarms go off. He saw Peter swing down to him. He closed his eyes, and fell asleep.    
  


  
Peter held Harley’s hand, bringing it to his lips. He had done this. If he had just been a little bit faster this wouldn’t have happened. If he had taken out that gang a bit faster, then it wouldn’t have happened.    
  
He could feel his eyes sting, looking at Harley’s pale peaceful form. He looked like he was sleeping. But Peter needed him to wake up.    
  
“I promise,” his voice cracked, “I promise to wear that blue sweater you bought me.”    
  
Harley kept sleeping, and Peter wanted to cry.    
  
“I promise to try to cook dinner for you at least once a week,” He whispered into the air, hoping Harley would hear it, “So you don’t have too.”    
  
Harley slept on. Peter looked at his beautiful face, “I promise we can get a sphinx cat.”    
  
“I promise you can steal all of my jackets,” He shivered, tears coming down his face hot and fast. Harley still didn’t respond, “I promise to cuddle with you forever.    
  
Harley still didn’t respond, “I promise I’ll get home at Midnight so you won’t have to go to bed alone.”    
  
“I promise Spider-Man won’t get in the way of me spending time with you,” he kisses Harley’s knuckles feeling like he could cry.    
  
What if Harley didn’t wake up? What would he do if Harley didn’t wake up? They said he lost a lot of blood before he had gotten to the hospital. They said that the shots were a 50-50 fatality. And Peter wasn’t sure he could survive that.    
  
“I promise,” His voice cracking loudly, “I promise that I will protect you, forever if you please, please, please just wake up.”    
  
Harley stayed asleep and leaving Peter to cry hard, gripping his hand tightly. He wished, wished Harley would squeeze back. And just like magic, Harley did, a soft chuckle, “You shouldn’t make promises you can’t keep, darling.”    
  
“Harley!” He cried out, reaching out to cup his boyfriends face, the tears quickly turning into ones of joys.    
  
“Hey Peter,” He smiled at his boyfriend, leaning into his palms, “I’ve been awake since the Sphinx cat, but I wanted to see what else I could get.”    
  
Peter laughed, wet and soft, “I’ll go get the doctor, but first-“    
  
He kissed Harley, deep and hard and full of passion. Harley kisses back, just as deep. Peter pulled away first, giving another lingering kiss, “Now doctor.”    
  
“Now doctor.”    
  
Harley watched his boyfriend go with a smile. That was his Spider-Man.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please leave a comment and feel free to hit me up @ peachy-keener!

**Author's Note:**

> tell me what you think, and if you want, hit me up @ peachy-keener on tumblr!


End file.
